Francypants and the Meaning of Life
by Muragaragah
Summary: Russia, Finland, and Sweden have asked France to talk to their charges about the birds and the bees, though events take a turn for the insane during his 'lesson.' Rated for terrible language. :D Request fic.


_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia. Copyrights go to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
>As always, reviews = love. They keep me writing.<br>Enjoy!~_

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><p>Francypants and the Meaning of Life<p>

_Oh Noes! Not Latvia and Sealand!_

"Hey, France," a heavily accented voice called from behind the blonde as a hand prodded his shoulder, "can I ask you for a favor? As former allies?"

"Euh?" France mumbled as he pivoted about-face, having to tilt his head up slightly to look at his caller. "Sure, I guess. What did you need, _la Russie?"_

Cherry pink tinged the tall Russian's cheeks as his lavender eyes darted away from France's cerulean, fixating on the wall just behind the other country while he spoke. "Well, Latvia's growing up so fast... and I haven't had the chance to give him the talk about... erm, your favorite activity. So, will you talk to him about it?" His gaze slid back to France, who had adopted a rather foreboding smirk.

"Ah, but of course! Where is little Latvia?" An odd twinkle illuminated his eyes as he glanced around animatedly.

Russia pointed toward the grand lobby down the hallway from the conference room in which they stood. "You'll find him in the lobby. He has been hanging around Liechtenstein for quite a while now, so look for either her or Switzerland if you have trouble locating him."

France nodded with a trademark "honhonhon" chuckle, patting Russia's shoulder as he walked past. "_D'accord, mon ami! _I'll make sure that he'll remember this talk!"

As soon as France exited the room a hand darted out and gripped the cloak attached to his vibrant, Prussian blue military uniform, steeling his advancement. His hands flew up to his mouth in an outwardly feminine gesture as he came face to face with the rather terrifying visage of Sweden. "Sorry to startle you, France!" A bubbly, moderately-toned voice piped up as Finland trotted to Sweden's side. "but we had to get your attention somehow."

"We overheard your talk with Russia. Can you talk t' Sealand for us?" Sweden muttered, gazing over the silver glasses that had slipped too far down the bridge of his nose.

France nodded, flashing the two a pearly grin once his instinctual fear had subsided. "Why not? Where can I find him?"

Finland gestured to the lobby. "He's probably talking to Lithuania or Britain. He looks up to those two."

_"D'accord, d'accord. _I'll bring him back to you when I'm done," France stated as Sweden released his cape with a curt nod.

He continued down the hallway, traipsing through the wide double doors leading into the lobby. All of the countries of the world had congregated in this gargantuan room, charging the cool air with indistinct chatter. France all but sidled against the wall until he spotted Switzerland, appearing awkwardly out of place with his hands jammed into his forest-hued jacket's pockets. He stood in a small circle with Liechtenstein and Latvia, chatting sparsely while seeming to glare at Latvia with pure vehemence. "Switzy! Liechty!" France called, bounding between the siblings and turning beside Latvia, tossing an arm around the adolescent country's shoulders. "Mind if I steal away _le petit _Latvia for a little while?"

A tiny grin curled against Switzerland's lips as he nodded. "Be my guest."

Liechtenstein turned to her brother wearing a confused look, one flaxen brow quirking. Her verdant irises shifted to France as worry replaced confusion. "Don't take too long, please, Mr. France!"

_"Mais bien sûr, ma puce!" _France replied as he whisked the now-protesting Latvia away from the pair.

"Where are you taking me? What do you need me for?" the shorter, sandy-haired country wondered, sky blue eyes darting to France's face as the other led him away from his company.

"You'll find out soon enough! This is an order from your caretaker," France responded vaguely, eyes locking onto the diminutive boy garbed in a sailor's outfit standing between Britain and America. "Ah, there's my _autre _victim now!"

France ambled straight up to the trio of blondes, stifling a chuckle at the caught-off-guard, totally-disgusted expression that played across Britain's pointed features as the shorter country noticed his presence. _"Salut, mes amis! _Might I borrow Sealand for _un moment?"_

Britain's harlequin-green eyes narrowed suspiciously as his hand perched atop Sealand's sailor hat. "What business do you have with him, frog?"

_"Mon dieu! _Must you look at me with such distrusting eyes, _mon chou?_ His parents asked me to speak with him, and speak I shall!" France explained, extending his free hand to Sealand.

Sealand turned to Britain and America, a huge appreciative smile breaking across his face. "Thanks for spending time with me, Britain and Mr. America! Looks like I have to go now."

Britain's mouth twitched in the way of uncertainty as he watched his former ally withdraw his arm from Latvia and scoop up the picayune marine nation, eyes narrowing to glare at the flamboyant man that served as his sometimes friend. "Alright then. If I get any wind of _anything_ suspicious going on involving _you_, France, I will see to it that you are dealt with personally."

"Sure, _Angleterre, _whatever you say," France replied, tossing a hand loftily in the air as he stepped toward America until he stood within arm's reach of the younger nation. "I'm sorry to say, _Amerique,_ that I'm commandeering one of your states for a few hours, _d'accord? _I'll bring it back in one piece, I swear."

Before America could react a hand darted out and pinched the middle of his glasses, sliding them easily off the bridge of his nose as France turned tail and flew away from the two English-speaking countries, Latvia following a few steps behind. "Hey! What the hell France? GIVE BACK TEXAS!"

France stifled a cunning chuckle as he ducked into an empty conference room a few doors down from the grand lobby, slamming the door and locking it as he set Sealand on his feet. "Alright, you two, go ahead and find a seat," he instructed, strutting to the high-backed chair at the very end of the conference table and perching in it as he slid America's beloved Texas onto his nose. _Bon dieu! He's blind!_

The world seemed as if someone had magnified it through the glass of a fishbowl. France could barely distinguish Latvia from Sealand as he slid the glasses a ways down his nose, his vision clarifying once his eyes readjusted. "So! Let's begin!" he announced, his hands lacing together as his elbows propped up against the table, chin resting against the back of his fingers. "It has come to my attention that you both need education in the more physical aspects of life, _oui?"_

Latvia shrugged, appearing rather out-of-place as a faint blush crept across his cheeks. "Do you have to talk to us about these things? Can't we just find out for ourselves when we get to that stage of life?"

France tsk'ed under his breath, shaking his head swiftly as a deafening boom resonated around the room from a formidable blow struck against the secured door. "_Non!_ You must be prepared, and you must know how to handle these situations when they arise, or else you will be inadequate in _l'amour!_ Now, you both know-"

_"UNLOCK THIS DAMN DOOR, FRANCE!"_

"-that you need to use protection, right?" France finished his inquiry as if America's screechy outburst took the form of musical notes carried on a spring breeze.

Sealand's hand shot skyward for a brief moment. "Um, protection? Wait, what exactly are we talking about?"

Another thunderous blow to the door preceded France's reply. "Sex, of course! What did you think I meant by 'physical aspects of life,' silly Sealand?"

_"YOU'RE TOTALLY GETTING NUKED WHEN I GET A HOLD OF YOUR SORRY ASS!"_

Sealand hopped straight out of his chair, hands popping up in a 'wait, hang on a sec' gesture as his somewhat thick brows furrowed. "I think I'm a little... young... for this talk! I don't even like girls in that manner yet! I think I need to talk to my parents about all this..."

France shrugged, gesturing behind him to the door. "Fine, fine, but good luck reaching the padlock on that door. Now, Latvia, you're still a virgin, correct?"

Latvia shook his head quickly, robin's egg eyes dropping from France's face to the polished surface of the table in front of him. "Actually... no. Not since two weeks ago."

A champagne brow arched as an astonished expression overtook France's features. He slipped out of his chair and walked round to Latvia's side, the volume of his voice dropping significantly as the door rattled from yet another blow to its wood, albeit much weaker this time. "Please tell me you used protection and pulled out at the end, _oui?"_

Latvia's jaw locked as his face shaded from apricot to beet red in an instant. "O-Of course...! I d-didn't want to risk anything!"

France clapped the younger's shoulder. "Good then! Nothing to worry about! I guess this talk-"

The conference room's door burst out of its lock as its hinges creaked noisily in protest, swinging inward to reveal a quite pissed-off America and Britain framed by its arch. America's dominant hand clutched an argentine baseball bat while Britain held his upper arm as an attempt to slow his movements if his ex-colony lashed out. "GIVE. BACK. TEXAS. Or else it's gonna be fucking World War Three up in this room!"

A hushed 'Go' cascaded from France's lips as Latvia scooted out of his chair and fled the room, latching onto Sealand in his haste. "You're always so rash, _Amerique!"_ France replied, a Cheshire grin plastered to his face as he advanced toward the other two, halting just a few steps away but out of the bat's reach. "But I can understand why, seeing as how you're as blind as a cave bat! ...Either way. It seems World War Three has begun then!"

As soon as the last syllable of France's statement vacated his voice box he darted almost like lightning between America and Britain, throwing a playful "catch me if you can!" over his narrow shoulder.

"God dammit," America muttered underneath his breath, his grip tightening around the hilt of the bat. "One of these days, I'm going to get some fucking contacts."

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><p><em>Fin.<em>

_Translations:  
>La Russie<em> - Russia_  
>D'accord, mon ami -<em> Okay, my friend_  
>D'accord - <em>Okay_  
>Le petit - <em>(The) little_  
>Mais bien sûr, ma puce - <em>But of course, sweetie_  
>Autre - <em>Other_  
>Salut, mes amis - <em>Hello, my friends_  
>Un moment - <em>A moment_  
>Mon dieu -<em> My god_  
>Mon chou <em>- Honey_  
>Angleterre - <em>England_  
>Amerique - <em>America_  
>Bon dieu - <em>Good god_  
>Oui <em> - Yes_  
>Non<em> - No_  
>L'amour - <em>(The) love

Sweden's Dialogue:

W' 'v'rhe'rd y'u t'lk'ng w'th R'ss'a. C'n y'u t'lk t' S'al'nd f'r 's? - We overheard you talking with Russia. Can you talk to Sealand for us?


End file.
